


Regrets on the Beach

by AngelsGuts



Category: markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Wilford Angst is all I write well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsGuts/pseuds/AngelsGuts
Summary: Wilford gets fuckin SMASHED and reveals a little bit of his past





	Regrets on the Beach

Drinking with Wilford was always full of surprises. Most often, he just became somehow  _ more  _ eccentric. He danced more, spoke louder, flirted with everyone he saw, and slurred like a  _ sonovabitch. _ It was rare for you to be able to understand a single word he was saying once he got enough in him.

You didn’t really approve of the idea of Wilford drinking as much as he did tonight, it just didn’t seem safe. Sure, he usually drank a lot anyway, but tonight it felt… Different… He drank harder, faster, more aggressively. He threw back shots and sipped tequila from two glasses, making more of a point of getting as much alcohol into his system as he possibly could.

“Hey, Wilford, are you okay…?” You finally asked him, gently reaching out for him. He turned his head to look at you from just over his arm. He was sitting at the bar with his head down, slurring and muttering to himself. When he first responded, he slurred on the vowel stream, not making any sense whatsoever. However, as he continued, he sat up slowly, and tears began to stream down his cheeks. Soon, he was sobbing violently, scratching at his arms until they were an angry red.

“Wilford! Wilford, stop-! What are you doing!?” You went to reach out for him - to grab his hands and make him stop. 

“Oh God, what have I done?!” He cried in response.

You pulled your hand back in shock. The tone in Wilford’s voice was something you’d never heard before - he was somehow  _ more  _ intelligible in that moment than he was when he was sober. His words were crisp and clear - enunciated with a purpose. It made you feel… Weird… Like you were watching somebody entirely new in front of you.

His hands made their way into his hair. He pulled at it, as though he were trying to pull the thoughts from his mind. “What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?” He repeated, his body now shaking with emotion.

You hesitantly reached out to touch him again, but he jolted backwards. “Don’t touch me!” He cried, hands up in front of him, “I’ll only hurt you - you’ll only be hurt!”

“Wilford, what are you ta-”

“They’ll never forgive me,” he began, mind carrying him off and away on another tizzy. “They’ll never forgive me, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t! It was an accident - it was an accident and I didn’t mean it and I never wanted it to happen! I didn’t want it to happen, I didn’t, I never did - I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Maybe he was mourning all of the people he’d killed on his shows and things? He always seemed so nonchalant about it, you figured he just couldn’t feel remorse for things like that. Perhaps that was wrong.

“I need Damien,” cut through your thoughts. You looked at Wilford, confusion painting your features. Damien? Did you know a Damien? “I need Damien,” he repeated, “I need Damien and I need Celine… I need them but I don’t know where they are and I don’t know what to do…”

Wilford hiccuped, his sobbing not showing any signs of slowing down. You did the only thing you knew to do - you called up Dark and prayed he’d pick up.

The phone rang once, twice, thrice before he finally picked up.

“What can I do for you?” He asked, voice dripping honey as it always did.

“Hi! Yeah! Dark? Um…” You looked over at Wilford, who was rocking back and forth. His arms bled from his scratching, which made you speak faster. “Yeah, do you know a Damien or… Or a Celine?”

The air between you went cold. Despite being so far away, you could feel the thickness of the tension you’d unknowingly created.

Dark spoke slowly, as though he were afraid of the situation at hand. “Why do you ask…?”

“Well, Wilford keeps saying that he needs them, and-”

“Don’t move,” he interrupted. You could hear him standing, shuffling with some things.

Confusion gripped you hard. “What do you me-”

“I’m on my way to where you are now. Keep an eye on Wilford - and God forbid don’t call him by that name. Address him as William and tell him Damien is on his way.”

He hung up, seemingly very rushed. You slowly pulled your phone from your ear, looking back over to Wilford -  _ William _ , who was now drawing attention to himself with his intense emotional outburst. You quickly swooped in, coaxing him to stand.

“William, hey, William, come on, let’s get some fresh air, okay? I just called Damien and he said he’s on his way, okay?”

“Damien-” William hiccuped, “You know Damien? You called him?”

“Yes, I called him. He’s on his way.”

William followed you without protest. “He’s coming? He’s really coming?”

“Y-yes, he’s on his way.” You had no idea what any of this was about - none of it really made sense. Wilford was now William, Dark was now Damien? This seemed to run much deeper than the people Wilford had killed on his show.

The two of you sat outside on the curb. You pulled William against your body, rocking him softly. His violent sobbing had reduced to sniffling and the occasional outburst of tears. Soon enough, a car pulled up in front of you. When you looked up, you froze. Whoever was in front of you, it wasn’t quite… Dark. His hair was pushed back and the look of worry on his face was one you didn’t think Dark was capable of.

“William?” The man called, stepping out of the car. You gave him a look, but he just reached out for William.

“Damien-” He gasped, standing. His body shook violently, and it looked like he would go down at any moment.  _ Damien  _ rested his hands around William’s waist, pulling him close. He wiped his tears, the most tender worry etched on his face.

“William… What happened…? Your arms-”

“I’m sorry,” William hiccuped, tears starting up again.

“Shh, shh, no, William, I’m not upset with you, I’m worried.”

“You’re not upset…?”

“No, I’m not upset. I just want you safe.”

William cried harder, staring into Damien’s eyes. He abruptly pulled him into a hug, sobbing into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to kill Mark - it wasn’t my fault, it was an accident, we were playing a game. I’m sorry I never told you, I thought you’d be mad at me, and you were so set on my innocence I thought that maybe I could believe it too if I just tried but I couldn’t and I-”

“William, William,” Damien cooed, gently rocking William in his arms. “It’s not your fault - it wasn’t your fault. I know what happened - I know it all. I’m not mad at you. I’m on your side.”

“M-my side-? You’re on my side…? You’re not mad…?”

“I’m not mad…”

They stood like that for a while, William slowly calming down. “Wh-what about Celine…?”

Damien paused for a moment, shifting his weight. “She’s… Doing well… Perhaps I’ll take you to see her sometime. But not tonight, okay? Some time when you’re better.”

William nodded, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I wouldn’t want her to see me like this.”

Damien looked as though he’d been shot. The pain on his face made your own heart hurt. “Of course,” he said softly, visibly forcing himself to remove the tension from his shoulders. “Come home with me, William. I’ll clean you up. I don’t want you going home alone tonight…”

William nodded, nuzzling into Damien before slowly pulling away to look at him again.

“I’ve missed you so much…”

Damien smiled at him, his hand coming up to cup his face. “I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry I’ve been away. I’m very grateful to your friend for calling me.”

William looked back at you, a watery smile on his face. His eyes were red and puffy, and the tear streaks down his cheeks glistened under the streetlight.

“Thank you,” William smiled, wiping his face.

You nodded, completely at a loss for words.

The two men got into the car. Damien smiled at you, his eyes flashing red and blue. “Thanks again for telling me about William. I promise to take good care of him.”

You nodded again, and they drove off. You stood in the driveway for a while, trying to piece together what had just happened. Whatever it was, you’d need a few drinks yourself to come to terms with it.


End file.
